


walk this way

by ninzied



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Against the Wall - Freeform, F/M, Modern AU, i love a good jealousy trope, kastlesmutweek, ksw: freaky friday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 04:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninzied/pseuds/ninzied
Summary: It’s probably one of the worst dates she’s ever been on.Wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. They haven’t made eye contact for at least the last drink and a half. Conversation has been pretty monosyllabic, when anything gets spoken at all. And the prick keeps checking his phone beneath the table every two seconds like he isn’t sitting across from the most goddamn beautiful girl in the world.Frank shakes his head and downs the rest of his whiskey.What the hell are you doing with this guy, Karen?





	walk this way

**Author's Note:**

> for kastle smut week, based on the prompts: against the wall | jealousy | “i’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”

It's probably one of the worst dates she's ever been on.

Wouldn't take a genius to figure that out. They haven't made eye contact for at least the last drink and a half. Conversation has been pretty monosyllabic, when anything gets spoken at all. And the prick keeps checking his phone beneath the table every two seconds like he isn't sitting across from the most goddamn beautiful girl in the world.

Frank shakes his head and downs the rest of his whiskey.

_What the hell are you doing with this guy, Karen?_

He knows he probably shouldn't be here, drinking alone and asking himself these kinds of questions. Karen had only shaken her head at him when she saw him walk into the bar – and, okay, he definitely shouldn't have stayed, but at the time he'd reasoned, hey, it's a free country. He can drink wherever he pleases, and wherever that is has nothing to do with the fact that she's here. Nothing at all.

"I'll get another," Frank tells the barkeep.

"You got it, handsome."

She winks at him, and it's all harmless so he smiles back, and asks if she'd like to join him for one. She's served him before, and she's nice to talk to; besides, it's a Tuesday, so not a whole lot else going on for either of them anyway.

Another whiskey for him, a vodka tonic for her, and she leans her elbows onto the counter between them, sipping her drink and peering thoughtfully over her straw at him.

He swallows again before choosing to bite. "What?"

"You gonna do something about that guy over there with your girl?"

Frank scoffs out a sound of disbelief, drumming a fingertip into the table before reaching back for his glass. "Not sure what you mean by that. She's a friend."

"I used to see you two here together all the time." She circles a finger around the rim of her drink, the look that she's giving him all-too-knowing. "I'm not blind, you know."

He shrugs, and pulls a face to match. "That supposed to clarify something?"

She doesn't respond right away, regarding him in a quiet, meaningful way that unnerves him. He clears his throat, shifts a bit on his stool to get that flash of blonde hair out of his periphery. The bartender smiles at him. Shit, he's not as subtle at this as he'd thought.

"So how'd he beat you to it?" she asks finally, leveling him with a won't-take-no-bullshit kind of expression.

Frank hazards a glance back at Karen, to reasonably convince himself that she can't hear what they're saying. She's far enough away, he thinks, but he waits until she's looked down at something in her lap before turning back to the bartender to say, "Not always good at speaking my mind where it counts, I guess."

"Honesty." She nods in approval. "I'm sure your – friend – would appreciate some of that too."

"Now's probably not the time."

Truthfully, there are…several things he'd like to say, if he could.

He's only met the guy once, at an office party that Karen had dragged him to – Clyde from accounting, she'd introduced them with a telling flush to her cheeks that made something in Frank's chest tighten, and what the hell kind of name was Clyde anyway?

Frank gets vibes from people – good kinds, bad kinds, all-the-other-shit-in-between kinds, and Clyde from the start has rubbed him the wrong way on every single count.

_You sure you're not jealous?_ had been Nelson's solely unhelpful bit of "advice," which Frank still hasn't stopped scowling over.

It's not that, he tells himself. Not just that, anyway. Because – all right, technically, Clyde's not a _bad_ person, but he's certainly an apathetic one, and hasn't appeared to do shit to make Karen happy, so.

If Frank were the murdering type, he would've put Clyde in the ground on day one.

Yeah, maybe he won't lead with that.

Still, he'd love nothing more than to walk up to Karen right now and tell her about what a waste-of-space Clyde is, and how she deserves so much better. But it's a different story to tell it like Frank makes the cut as far as what's 'better' for her, and that part he's never been able to get out in words.

Frank's not entirely sure he believes it anyway, and isn't that the whole point? To be honest with her? What good would that do if he can't even be straight with himself first?

"Just give it some thought, all right?" The bartender gives him a playful snap with her washrag.

He chuckles. "Will do. Thanks for the free session, doc."

"Anytime, soldier."

She steps away to check on her other patrons. Frank's frowning into the bottom of his glass when he catches some movement in the corner of his eye.

Karen's looking over at him, and he can't read her expression, but he knows that his can't be good. She's caught him in some vulnerable place, thinking of all the _what if_'s and the _could have_'s – thinking of her, thinking of them.

What _them_?

She tilts her head, lips parting slightly, and he can't help it. He can't stop staring back at her.

Karen heaves a small sigh, her blouse straining a little with the movement. He doesn't mean to look down either, but he does, just a split second before his gaze is snapping back up to hers like a magnet. He tells himself he's imagining it, the way her eyes turn a heavier blue, but there's a low-churning heat in his stomach all the same.

His tongue darts out to wet his mouth. She crosses her legs together, teeth biting thoughtfully into her lower lip.

He's – he's definitely imagining things.

The bartender's occupied when Frank finishes off the rest of his whiskey, and like a moth drawn to the goddamn flame, he glances over to see Karen down her own glass before gesturing vaguely toward the back of the bar.

Clyde lifts his shoulders in a grunt, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

She's careful not to look back at Frank, sliding out of her seat and making her way toward the bathroom. He watches her leave, watches the way her blouse clings to the small of her back, the tapering of her skirt at her waist before flowing down over legs that go on, and on, and on. She's wearing heels today, which is one thing he hadn't noticed earlier.

Frank sets his glass down.

He doesn't know if Clyde notices, or even recognizes him when he passes by.

He doesn't know that he cares.

She's left the door unlocked. He clears his throat before entering, and Karen is there waiting, hands on the sink as she glances over her shoulder and a curtain of golden blonde hair at him.

"What took you so long, Frank?" she asks, a little bit breathless as she pushes off of the sink and moves toward the door where he's hovering.

"I – honestly can't tell you."

There's the slightest furrow in her brow, telling him to try again.

"Look, I—" He rubs a hand over the other, wishing he didn't find it so hard to look her in the eye right now. "Karen, you can't stay with that guy."

"I know," she says.

He nods, chin ducking down to his chest for a moment. When he looks up again, his hands are steady, the words coming out just slightly above a rasp. "It should be me."

"I know that, too." Karen gives him a small smile. "Wasn't sure you did, though."

She takes a step closer, just a hair's breadth away.

"I think the rest is up to you," she says. "Let me know if you ever figure it out."

She reaches for the doorknob behind him.

He should let her go. He should. He should.

He should—

Karen moves to step past him, and truly he doesn't mean to stop her, but his mind goes one way while his body goes another, and they wind up with her body half-pressed into his shoulder, his face too-close to hers.

Their gazes meet. There's a question in hers, but she must end up finding an answer, in the heat in his eyes, or the whiskey in his bloodstream that has him edging even closer, until their noses are practically touching.

She reaches for the door again. He hears the click of the lock as she turns it in place.

The sound is like a flint to stone, sparking something inside of him, and he captures their lips together, kissing her with everything that he's got. A part of him's saying to stop this, even as his arms wind around to crush her against him – but then she's sighing into his mouth, lips parting to invite him in, and he's never been so sure in his life that this, right here, is where he belongs.

Kissing his girl in a…public bathroom.

While her boyfriend is waiting outside.

Frank pulls reluctantly back. "We should, ah." His voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat, tries again. "Probably not do this here."

Karen nods, touching her hands to either side of his face. Her lips are pink, and maybe already a little bit swollen. "Okay."

"Okay."

He kisses her again.

Her arms slide up his chest brace over his shoulders, hand warmly cupping his nape. A shiver runs down his spine when her fingers scratch lightly into his scalp, and she must feel it, because she's smiling into him and doing it again.

He angles his mouth more firmly over hers, tongue dipping inside as she meets him halfway with a soft-throated moan. His hands roam down to squeeze at her backside as he walks her sideways, pivoting her when their shoulders hit the wall.

She arches her spine with a gasp as he pins her there with his lower body, hands grazing back up the curve of her hip bones to settle his palms just over her rib cage. His thumbs brush against the underside of her breasts, and the sound that she makes sends all his blood rushing down, down, has stars dancing across the inside of his eyelids with how badly he wants her right now.

There's a new sense of urgency underscoring his need to learn everything he can about her like this, from the way her skin tastes to the knowledge of how her body seems to fit perfectly with his.

Fuck, they should've done this ages ago.

And fuck if they're not going to keep doing this, across every goddamn surface of time and space, because there's no going back – no letting her go – now that he knows. Now that she's kissed him back.

His thoughts are jarred into the present again, vaguely aware of his belt being loosened. Her hand winds down between them to knead into his dick through his jeans, and his hips buckle forward, a groan slipping out.

"Karen," he murmurs. "We really doing this here?"

His hands are already sliding her skirt up, feeling over the smooth, soft skin of her thighs. His fingertips reach something lacy and thin, that feels like he could tear it right off of her if he so chose. But if she tells him to stop, he'll do it. If she—

His fly comes open, her hand reaching down. "This is what I want." She teases a finger into his waistband, pulling in a mercilessly slow fashion until his dick springs out, erect. "I'm on the pill, and I trust you. And I don't want to wait any longer. Now tell me what you want, Frank."

"I want—" He exhales through his nose, and presses the hard length of his dick into her waiting hand. He reaches to grasp the side of her neck, sweeping a thumb under her chin. "I want to fuck you so hard you forget you ever met that asshole."

She kisses him first this time, heated and tongue-filled from the start. He wants – God, he wants – he wants everything, now that she's offered it to him. He grabs at her ass and squeezes, skirt bunching up into his fists as they rearrange their lower bodies, drawing together as close as they can.

Karen's roughly his height, taller even in those heels, and he finds that he fits nicely between her legs, without having to hoist her up or wrap one of said legs-for-days around him.

Though on second thought, that's still sounding pretty good right now.

She is, as always, already two steps ahead of him, hooking a knee over his waist and sliding her leg down over his backside. Her hand's been busy, working him over until he's practically dripping for her, swiping away a bead of precum and thumbing it over the head of his dick.

She smirks softly when he shudders into her, everything in him seeming to pulsate with need. His dick is throbbing, and it's a struggle to think with any other part of his body right now, but his hand finds its way beneath her skirt again, rubbing her through that thin layer of fabric.

Karen wriggles against him, demanding. In one swift move, he strips it off, tugging it down to her knees and letting her do the rest.

She's positively soaked when he reaches for her again, and he doesn't waste another moment before dipping a finger to sample her wetness, warm and tight and clenching around him, and _fuck_.

"Goddamn, Karen." He fucks another finger into her, feeling her tremble. "Goddamn." Her clit is swollen, the nub of it deliciously sensitive, her whole body jerking like a livewire when he moves his thumb over it in tight, rough circles.

She gasps out his name, hand going slack around his dick for a moment. He thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard.

He mouths a kiss into the hollowed part of her neck, working downward to her collarbone. He wants to rip her blouse open – wants to free up her tits and put his mouth on them, until it's too much and she tugs on his hair to make other uses out of his tongue.

Later, he thinks. They'll make time for that later.

Right now—

She moves her hips to get the angle just right, and he pulls his hand out, slicking it over his dick before lining it up with her entrance. She's warm, and Christ so fucking wet, it takes everything not to just slam into her, the moment he spreads her apart and sinks himself in.

Their foreheads slide together, breathing shallowed as he slowly sheaths his dick inch by inch inside of her. He watches her with a half-lidded gaze, drinking in the soft gasp that she makes, the way her lashes flutter shut as her mouth forms around a small, throaty _oh_.

He pulls nearly all the way out just to feel her walls clench as he enters her again, rocking back in until he's balls deep inside her. She sneaks a hand beneath his sweater, running her palm up his torso as his muscles tighten with another roll of his hips. Their mouths fall back together, the kiss half-breaking apart from the weight of each hitch in their breathing.

They build a steady rhythm, her pressing down on him as he thrusts himself up into her, until they're fucking in earnest, and there's nothing but Karen – her quietly stifled moan in his ear, the silk of her hair when he palms the side of her head, the wet slap of their bodies coming together again and again.

A telltale warmth is beginning to bloom deep down, and he slows just long enough to put his hand on her, rubbing into her clit. She keens with the movement, throwing an arm out against the wall for purchase.

"_Oh_, my God – Frank—"

"I'm—" He wonders how he can sound so broken, be on the verge of coming apart, yet never feel so whole as he does now. "I'm close, I. Karen…"

And then he finds just the spot that makes her cry out again, closing his mouth over hers in another sloppy kiss to help muffle the sound. He ups the pressure, feeling his dick slide against his hand as he pulls in and out of her.

"Don't – _mm_ – don't stop—"

She clenches around him, walls closing with the weight of her orgasm as she arches back, face tight with pure ecstasy. It knocks him over the edge a moment later, and an all-consuming pleasure shudders up through his body with one last jerk of his hips, spilling his seed into her.

Their movements slow to something languid, a shallow pulsing of hips back and forth to chase the last of that blissed-out high. Frank can feel himself start to soften, but he's remiss to pull out too soon, when everything is still so warm with their bodies joined and pressed together.

He helps her clean up eventually, wiping down the inner part of her thighs while she tucks him back inside his jeans. She dots a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering there as he turns into it.

"Come home with me," he says.

Karen scrunches her nose as if in consideration, and says in a playfully innocent tone, "I don't know, I still have this other tab open. You think I should close it?"

He grips her waist, tugging her in. "You better." And then he plants a slow, hard kiss to her neck, in case there's any mistaking his meaning. "I'll be at the bar."

"Mm. While you're there," hums Karen, winding her arms back around him, "Tell Beth thanks for finally talking some sense into you."

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head as he straightens. "Unbelievable." But he can't seem to stop smiling at her. "You want anything else?"

"Just you," says Karen, kissing his cheek – not that he's the bashful type, but he's definitely feeling a little bit warm there – "though maybe not in a bathroom next time."

"You sure about that?" Frank walks them a reluctant half-step toward the door, not quite yet ready to release her. "Because I do have one of those."

"That's very romantic," she tells him.

"Yeah, I thought so."

"How could I stay away?" she wonders.

"I'm hoping you don't." He lets her go then, but not before lifting her hand to his mouth, grazing a kiss to her knuckles.

She touches his jaw for a moment. "Frank," she says, with the kind of patience one uses to tease a person that ought to know better. "I could say the same for you."

"I promise you, Karen," he says, "I wouldn't know the first thing about how do that with you."

Frank watches her unlock the door, slipping out with one last smile at him. He gives it a minute before following through, a lightness in his step that feels a little like flying.


End file.
